Captain America: Civil War
by 8belles
Summary: (RE-WRITE) Short Scene Speculations based on the Civil War trailer via You Tube and my own twists/interpretations. May take a bit to connect the dots (I'm not the Russo Bros or K. Feige). Patience is appreciated. Reviews always welcome. Black Widow,Falcon,Stark,Rhodey,Hawkeye,Crossbones,BlackPanther,BaronZemo,AntMan,(Spidey?)and all the moving parts... I hope. #TeamCap
1. They Found Him

**A/N—total speculation based on the trailer. Not sure HOW Bucky got into that vise. Really. And is he in Germany? Or Wakanda? Here's the best I can do with such little info.**

 _Somewhere in Germany about a few days before Brock meets with Baron Zemo in Wakanda_

The smell of gasoline and industrial machine lubricant was thick in the humid summer air. Barnes couldn't tell if he was smelling the iron of the machines around him or tasting his own blood. Wan light filtered in through dust motes making the room a vague haze. Rivulets of sweat trickled down his back and into his eyes but he didn't bother wiping it away, allowing gravity to pull them down to splash meaninglessly on the floor.

His left arm was clamped tightly by the machine press. It didn't hurt, per se, but the arm sent back information that it was unhappy. Not pain, but annoying notifications to his brain demanding he fix the situation immediately. In the back of his mind he wondered if pain would be preferable than this inexorably annoying system update.

When he had woken up from the ambush a few days prior, he contemplated ripping the arm off somehow. First, he started pulling, then increased the effort. Skin began to stretch as 70-year-old scar tissue pulled tight. Tiny beads of blood began to dot the flesh-metal interface. Panting with the effort of pulling his own arm off, he stopped when Crossbones showed up. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, even if it's a totally badass decision."

Barnes looked up at the mercenary hiding behind his skull-mask. If looks could kill, Rumlow would have been a pincushion of knives.

"Yes, Asset. If you rip that arm off, you'll bleed to death in a matter of minutes." Crossbones paced around the captive Barnes in his vise, "It's very intimately attached to you. I've read the schematics. I've read a lot about you, actually. Pierce's records were very complete."

"I have a _name._ " Bucky growled, his voice rough from disuse, eyes burning holes into Rumlow.

"Not to me, Asset." Brock swung around the vise, cuffing Barnes across the head staying just out of reach but close enough to sneer grotesquely even from behind the mask.

"What do you want?" Bucky returned, tossing his filthy hair back, unfazed by Rumlow's punch and display of bravado.

"You are the bait. And a scapegoat." Brock commented, moving away, "Isn't it great you can multitask like any 21st century guy?"

"Bait for who?" Barnes didn't care about the scapegoating. He'd been Hydra's lackey for so long, his list was red with their incriminations.

"Really?" Rumlow looked genuinely annoyed, "Perhaps someone close to you? A friend?"

It took every fiber of Barnes' being to sit absolutely still and not give Brock any sign of knowing exactly what Crossbones was talking about.

"Going for stoic. So 1940's. Or is your brain still half frozen, Asset?" Crossbones badgered, "Your friend, comrade in arms, best buddy… Steve Rogers? Or should I say Captain America!" Brock stood up straight at attention feigning patriotism with a false salute.

James didn't flinch. Inside the privacy of his head, he raged against Brock thinking if he touched one hair on Steve's head, he'd rend Crossbones piece by piece until he died the most tortuously painful way he knew how to deliver.

"Ok. Have it your way. You're both dead men either way you look at it. Then we'll just mop up Stark and the rest of his dumbass crew." Brock shrugged mildly disappointed by Barnes' non-reaction to his fate. "I've got a plane to catch. Enjoy your stay."

Mutely, Bucky watched Crossbones leave, lightly flexing his left hand, planning revenge.

* * *

The second plane Brock caught was not a commercial one. The small bush plane set down surreptitiously at sundown just outside the city limits and was quickly unloaded of cargo into a Range Rover. Hoping into the passenger seat, the Wakandan driver sped off quickly into the encroaching gloom, heading to the safe house located within the suburbs of the city. Tomorrow, there would be news about meeting the infamous Baron Zemo.

* * *

"We have word of a sighting." Widow said quietly to Steve before Tony arrived to the meeting. Falcon had relayed the information to Romanov earlier that morning because she would see Steve before he would and he should hear it in person.

Rogers's eye brows ticked up and a sparkle came into his eyes, "Yes?"

Natasha sighed inwardly. Cap's inescapable feelings for his best friend would always be his Achilles heel. She felt sorry for him, or was it envy? "Yes. We have word that Brock Rumlow is holding him hostage. Right now, he's in Wakanda."

Rogers' body became a statue; only the vibration of his tensing muscles in rage betraying his emotional state. His eyes became cold, "I thought he was dead."

"Apparently not. Goes by the mercenary name 'Crossbones.'" Widow slid a thin file towards the Avenger. He took it as Tony appeared down the hallway through the glass walls.

"I'm going after him." Steve replied tersely and Natasha didn't need to wonder which 'him' it was.

Cap barely heard or cared what Tony had to say. He stayed mute and nodded when expected and was appropriate. His mind was contemplating the slow death he was going to give Brock. Rumlow _knew_ Bucky was the Winter Soldier. He _knew_ the whole time that he was Steve's best friend _. He knew_.

When the meeting was over, Steve made a measured and hasty retreat from the office. When the door had closed and the broad shoulders of the Avenger had disappeared, Widow leaned towards Tony slightly, a small frown between her brows, "I don't like this, Stark."

Tony turned with his enigmatic smile, "Why not? Nick used to do this all the time."

"Because Bucky is his best friend." Natasha defended, "Not just a hostile to be eliminated."

Stark's face frosted over at the mention of Barnes being Steve's best friend, "Well, I see Cap as _uniquely qualified_ for this mission."

"And you're letting him go in alone. Against Rumlow. How kind." she glared at him.

Tony waved a hand at her, nonchalantly, "Well, I assumed you certainly would follow him, right? After all, if things go south, I still need Barnes."

Natasha gave him a stony look and then departed wondering sometimes if Tony had taken his heart out with that arc reactor years ago.

 _That's a good girl_ , Tony thought, tapping his chin, as the Black Widow departed.


	2. Friends Close, Enemies Closer

It was stiflingly hot; moisture clung to his skin, chafing at the shirt collar near his neatly trimmed hair line. Overhead, lazy fans turned in circles, moving air but producing no cooling to the people below them. A steady droning hum of their motors laced the air with an undercurrent of sound while the sound of languages other than English penetrated the walls. Outside in the tropical sun, people moved about their business, buying groceries for the evening meal, selling fresh produce and wares. The street was heavy with chatter and small motor traffic.

Zemo turned towards Crossbones, who stood to the side, scarred arms clasped behind him. "When did you acquire your injuries, Mr. Rumlow?"

"At the fall of the Triskellion building. Two years ago." Brock responded, the warped tissue around his face giving him a permanent scowl.

"I see. Serving our illustrious leader Alexander Pierce. Hydra thanks you for that service and your sacrifice. That did not turn out well for him, hmm." Zemo's tone was dry but then gained an edge, "And he lost the Asset. You are familiar?"

"I am." Brock replied trying to keep his cool, which was becoming more difficult with the pompous German.

"And in the absence of Hydra, and during your recovery, have you been following the news?" the Baron inclined his head slightly.

"Let's put it this way; I know what a pain in the ass the Avengers have been to you." Brock tried a smile, but it came out as a grimace.

"Hmm. The loss of Baron von Strucker and his work was a huge loss to us. But it what was lost can be recovered. Sokovia was not an alpha and omega for us. This phoenix can rise from its ashes." Zemo paced thoughtfully, "There is discord in the Avengers after Sokovia. The world is not pleased with them and their destructive ways. The Avengers are expensive. They cost money in infrastructure and innocent lives. So tragic, you think?"

"Sure." Brock agreed shifting his weight. He wanted Zemo to get to the point so he could find some blasted air conditioning in this backwater country.

"Do not be so impatient, Mr. Rumlow. Who you do think helped you get back on your feet and paid your medical bills so that no suspicions were aroused?" Zemo looked back over his shoulder like a snake. Brock blinked. "Precisely. Where was I… yes, the Avengers. My understanding is Tony Stark is feeling, how shall we say, guilty for his latest mistake named Ultron. He is feeling the pressure of government and his own conscience to do the right thing. He thinks making all these… super heroes… sign a piece of paper will make it all better." Zemo chuckled a mirthless laugh, "So short sighted, but a great opportunity for us."

"How so?" Crossbones asked more to help the monologing baron to the point.

"I think Hydra would flourish in a place where no Avengers existed at all, yes?" Zemo postulated.

Brock released his hands, holding them wide in incredulity, "Really? And how are you going to work that miracle? Even a murder bot clad in vibranium couldn't destroy them."

"Exactly. Because we will not destroy the Avengers by force. They are noble people. They have feelings. They have heart. That is their weakness." Zemo smiled wickedly, "We need you to get the Asset. He is Captain America's best friend. He will once again serve us and drive a wedge deeper between the Avengers. A house divided cannot stand."

"And what if I said I had him already?" Crossbones commented slyly.

"Then that would be all the better." Zemo turned to face the mercenary, a hungry look on his face.

"What do you want him to do?" Brock queried.

"I want him to blow up the United Nations. Can you arrange this?" Zemo requested.

"Not a problem. How big do you want it to go boom?" Crossbones replied with a hint of glee in his voice. " Hail Hydra."


	3. Revenge

Wakanda….

Baron Zemo had just departed down a back alley in a nondescript car as Natasha pulled in to the town square. She knew Steve was here somewhere but even in his uniform and beacon-like shield it was difficult to spy him in the riotous colors of the open air market. The crowd shifted and then swayed with commerce as people came and went intent on their destination or errand.

The heat began to plaster the back of her hair with sweat. Trying to ignore the itching trickles, she kept scanning from her Range Rover.

Suddenly a commotion grabbed her attention. Steve streaked across the square in hot pursuit of some henchman. A flying leap sent him up through the air, disabling a gun touting HYDRA goon who was on the rooftop of a truck with a midair kick. Not missing one beat, he ran on toward the Institute for Infectious Disease building, leaping upon a jeep and through a second story window. She admired for a moment his incredible physical ability before hopping out of her vehicle and joining the melee.

By the time she crossed the market, pushing through panicked people smartly running _away_ from the commotion, Steve threw Crossbones out of the building through another window into the street. A few of his thugs jumped in. _That's not terribly fair, is it_ , she thought and entered into the fray with a few spin kicks of her own.

Crossbones laughed a low raspy laugh as he and Steve exchanged blows, "Remember, it's not personal."

"You **knew!** You knew the whole time who Bucky was." Steve raged throwing punches that Rumlow deflected with his body armor. In his frenzy, Steve had dropped his shield on the ground.

"Nice trained dog. Maybe a better description would be our 'bitch'?" Brock teased shoving Steve roughly up against a wall and then activating a huge blade from his forearm. Rogers ducked just in time before the knife buried itself into the wall where his head had just been.

Throwing in a few well placed stomach punches while Crossbones tried to dislodge blade, Steve shoved him back the ground. Cap picked a wheezing Rumlow by the shoulders and shook him roughly like a fox shaking a rat.

Through the mask, Brock looked up at the manic face of Steve and breathed with a smile, "You know, he remembered you."

Steve's knuckles were white with fury around Crossbones' collar. His breath came in harsh pants and his heart hammered in his ears like blacksmith pounding iron into a sword.

"Your pal, your buddy, your Bucky." Crossbones voice cut through the thick humid air and dust like a knife straight into Steve's heart.

With a twist of his hands and an abrupt crack, Crossbones was no more.

Seeing their leader fallen, the Hydra scum scattered into the crowd. People sobbed in fear, hiding under tables and behind storefronts, wide-eyed and terrified. Natasha dusted herself off and looked towards Steve. Seeing the crumpled heap of Crossbones at his feet, she sighed and shook her head.

With a limp, she walked to Steve's side, his shoulders working up and down like a bellows. "You ok, Rogers?"

Turning his head towards her, she saw streaks of tears in his dusty face. The conflict in his eyes was obvious. Natasha read it like a book; he just killed a man in cold blood for revenge. Captain America doesn't kill in revenge. Rogers composed himself as best he could, "I gotta go." Picking up his shield, he jogged away from her and disappeared.

Looking about her at the chaos, the dead Brock at her feet and the destruction she felt the weight of being an Avenger grow heavy around her shoulders. Slowly, the dawning realization that Tony was right came to her. At first she wasn't sure but now it was plain as day. The Accords were needed. They were needed more than ever. She also thought that Stark had vastly underestimated Steve Rogers when it came to his best friend, Bucky Barnes.


	4. Innocent

Steve sat in the quinjet simultaneously wanting to sleep anther seventy years and also wanting to crawl out of his skin. Revenge. He killed in the name of revenge. The idea made him sick and hollow feeling. This was not who he was. The meeting that Stark had with him and Natasha before he left for Wakanda came back to him in small fits and phrases: Accords, Avengers are too powerful, need limits. Scouring his eyes with the heel of his hands, he changed his train of thought to the conversation he had with Sam just before he boarded the plane.

" _Steve! Have you heard the news?" Sams' voice was verging on panic._

" _No. What happened?" Adrenaline surged fresh through Steve's mind, thinking it had something to do with Bucky. He wasn't too far off._

" _The United Nations Security Council building in New York. It's… gone, Steve. Blew up this afternoon." Wilson sounded as if he didn't believe the words of his own voice._

" _What? How!?" Steve asked as he absorbed the information. Guilt flared his mind that somehow he could have helped stop the carnage if he'd been there. The Avengers could have stopped it, somehow._

" _They're saying Bucky did it."_

 _Steve hung up the connection in utter disbelief._

Bucky was in Germany, with Rumlow's thugs.

How could he have done this?

The world spun sideways in his mind. Closing his eyes, heart heavy, he tried to sleep before his arrival in Berlin.

The line went dead in his hand. Looking annoyed at the phone, Sam grabbed his pre-packed bag and took a smaller quinjet off the roof of the Avengers tower. Steve was in no condition to be doing this alone. Piloting it himself, Falcon was sure he blew out some windows as he hit mach-2 to Berlin.

"Why are you here?" Rogers asked more harshly than he meant to. All he wanted was to extract Bucky and clear his name.

Wilson let it roll off him like oil over water. He was used to vets with their issues and Steve's were no different. "To help."

"I don't need it." Steve strode off aggressively to the arrivals area to get a taxi.

Sam followed close behind, "I think you do."

Steve stopped in his tracks making Sam almost crash into him. His blue eyes drove knives into Sam brown ones. "You know he's innocent. Right?"

Falcon nodded in ascent, "Remember when you asked me to help? I'm here for you. If Bucky needs help, I'll be there for him too. He's your friend."

Steve inhaled a deep breath as if he suddenly realized what a dick he was being. "Sorry. It's been a long day."

"I understand. Let's go get him." Falcon said. A tiny smile lit Steve's face. Sam was glad to see it.


	5. Changes in Lattitude

**A/N- in the "Ant Man" Post credit scene, Sam says he 'Knows a guy'. I doubt, in light of the newest trailer, that those lines will be used in the real film. However, I wrote this back when the post Cred scene was all we had. So… off to the Pyms we go.**

The night wore on as Sam drove; his eyes began to dip in exhaustion. He didn't hear any commotion from the back seat of the SUV so he supposed that Cap and Bucky were playing nice. Either way, they had to get to California and driving in a stolen cop SUV was not the way to get there from New York.

They needed a plane. Stealing one was completely out of the question. Racking his brain, dreaming of a cup of coffee, he tried to think of any buddies he still had in the Air Force that were nearby. Miles ticked by on I-95 as he realized they were heading to New Jersey. McGuire AFB. That was the solution.

Setting course, Sam watched his speed limit. It would do no good at all to get a ticket. The partition slid open and Wilson jumped in surprise. "You doing ok, Sam?" Cap asked, a happy weariness in his tone.

Falcon eyed Steve in the rear view mirror looking for any sign of trouble. He still couldn't wrap his head around the idea that after all that searching, they had finally found Bucky. "Yeah. I'm ok. I even got a plan to get us to my guy."

"Where is this pal of yours?" Rogers asked. Sam could see the glint of Bucky's left arm in the mirror.

"California."

"How in sam hill are we going to get there!?" Cap exclaimed, eyes wide.

"I got a plan."

"We're going to McGuire Air Force base." Bucky's voice quietly filled the car. Wilson's blood chilled with the unruffled tone.

"How do you know, Buck?" Cap wondered, looking at his friend.

"I've been this way before." Barnes replied solemnly as he stared out the window, expressionless. Wilson and Rogers didn't want to know why.

"I have a few friends still in the Air Force. I can get us a favor, maybe." Wilson filled in, eyes meeting Steve's in the mirror.

"Ok." is all Rogers said and then relaxed back in his seat.

* * *

"Sam, do have any IDEA what time it is?" the voice on the other side of the phone complained.

"Yeah. I do. Sorry Rob. I gotta call in a favor." Sam replied, a tinge of regret in his voice. Falcon didn't want to draw in more innocent people that could get harmed by Hydra or Stark.

A sigh filled the phone with a groan of someone rising out of a warm bed, "Ok. Give me a half hour. I'll be there."

"Thanks Rob." Wilson finished and hung up.

* * *

Ditching the cop car in an alley, they waited about a mile away from the base when a nondescript sedan pulled up. Sam looked through the window and saw his friend who parked the car at the corner of the intersection. In the predawn gloom, the two old friends shook hands and embraced like brothers.

"Sam, it's been too long." Rob smiled at Wilson, teeth bright on his ebony skin.

"Yeah. It has." Falcon smiled back, "And I'm sorry to drag you into this."

"No. No problem. A friend in need. Anything for you." Rob replied easily, stepping back to get a look at his long time pal.

"Then you don't mind hooking us up with a plane?" Wilson ventured cautiously.

Rob's eyebrows rose slowly, "Who is 'us'?"

"Me and some friends." Sam gestured behind him around the corner of the nearby buildings. Cap and Bucky stepped out into the street light.

Robs' eyes grew huge, " _Captain America_?"

"Steve Rogers. Pleased to meet you." Steve extended a hand to the airman. They shook firmly.

"Robert Johnson." Came the reply.

"This is my friend Sergeant James Barnes." Steve introduced the silent ex-assassin. Rob's amazement melted away and became an air of wariness.

No hand shaking was exchanged but a quiet head nod.

"We need to get to California and under the radar." Wilson filled in.

Johnson looked the trio over, mind trying to process the reasons that two Avengers and an AWOL assassin would be on the lam. Steve sensed his hesitation and raised his hands in supplication, "Long story short, my friend here was set up. By Hydra… or someone. Regardless, Tony Stark is going to hand him over for crimes he did not commit. Last I checked, in the eyes of the law, you were innocent until proven guilty. Bucky isn't getting that chance. We need to get to California. We'd really appreciate your help, but I understand if you say no."

Wilson affirmed Steve's summation with a brief head nod. Barnes remained utterly still.

After a long silence as the sun began to think about pinking the sky in the east, Rob spoke hesitantly, "You know, I could lose my job. Be court-martialed. My family…."

Falcon intervened, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, "I know. You can say no. We get it."

Looking at his feet in thought, then at the other men, Johnson stood up and squared his shoulders, "I can get you to Nebraska. We have a crew of C-130's leaving in a few hours. Air National Guard training flight. You'll have to be cargo. I can't disguise Captain America and a… wanted man."

The two Avengers smiled in gratitude. Bucky remained impassive. "Thanks, Rob. This means the world to me." Wilson said with relief.

"Yeah. Well, Riley wouldn't have me walk way from his best friend when he was in trouble, would he?" Rob replied with a sad smile.

A lump caught unexpectedly in Falcon's throat, "No. No, he wouldn't."

"Ok then, let's get you ready as cargo." Johnson replied and gestured to the car.


	6. Tiny Boxes

The breath of the men puffed in white clouds around their head in the early fall chill as dawn threatened. The immense hangar doors gaped open like the mouth to a mysterious cave. Inside, the guardsmen checked the cargo for loading using barcode scanners, their voices hushed by the huge space.

Rob had pulled up to the hangar using a back gateway and ushered the three men quickly inside. Finding a relatively empty aluminum container, he gestured rapidly to get inside; the airmen would be approaching shortly.

"Here is the water and food." Rob shoved the convenience store bag at Steve, glancing around nervously, "Hop in. You'll be in Omaha in about five hours. These containers will be pressurized with the rest of the plane, although, I think you'll be a bit warm. Ventilation is not spectacular on these."

Sam looked warmly at his friend, "Thanks."

"Yeah. Thank me when you get there so I can know if my career is ended or not." Johnson laughed. Sam smiled and climbed in the hatch.

Steve shook Rob's hand and climbed in.

Bucky stood like a statue.

"Buck. C'mon!" Steve urged.

A vaguely frightened expression was on James's face. "I can't."

"Why not?" Steve asked. Johnson started to look worriedly about as the airmen came down the row of cargo containers, one by one getting closer.

"Into… a box. I can't." Bucky ground out, his left arm flexing with tiny whirrs and clicks.

"It's ok, Bucky. I'm here. Sam's here. We're going to take you to a safer place." Steve implored.

"So small. Dark. I… can't." Barnes looked as if he'd bolt.

Giving a glance at Sam, Steve set his jaw. Leaping with explosive force, Rogers rocketed out of the container doorway and tackled Bucky to the floor.

Decades of Winter Soldier instincts asserted themselves and Bucky hammered Steve in the back with both fists, knocking the wind out of Cap. Johnson stood by horrified that the commotion would draw attention and they'd all be arrested.

Sam popped out of the container and grabbed Buchanan's upper body in a vise-like grip as Cap lassoed his legs with his arms. Grunting with great effort they hauled the thrashing Bucky into the container. "Didn't come all this way… to lose you now.", Steve gritted with the flailing body of Buchanan. James broke free of their grip to face the two men inside the dark box just as Steve produced a Widow's Bite. He snapped it on Bucky's right arm and the crackle of blue lightening arced over him, as he crumpled to the floor in a boneless heap. Cap was grateful he has purloined some of the Hulk-voltage versions from the Avengers HQ after their little chat with Tony a few days earlier.

The world went dark for all three of them as Rob quickly shut the door as if it was Pandora's box and he had just trapped the evil of the world inside.

Clicking on a small keychain flashlight, the two conscious men panted in the pitch darkness looking at the temporarily stunned assassin at their feet.

"This is what happens when you fly coach." Steve teased, sweat running rivulets down his face. The container had begun to warm considerably with the three large bodies inside.

"Ha ha, Rogers." Sam replied sourly.


	7. Traitor

A Friend ch 3

 **A/N—I used Google to do basic research on the ranks of the characters here and I assume just because you're a girl, they don't say Airwoman but Airman as the rank is described. Don't mean to offend any military. Thank you for your service! And if you don't know how Riley is, there was a picture of him in CA:WS. He is Sam's deceased best friend from the F.A.L.C.O.N. program**

"First Lieutenant Johnson, sir. A surprise to see you here, sir." The airman first class smartly saluted the rattled officer as he stood near the container, praying that no one heard the racket they just caused.

"Airman Ruiz, at ease." Rob commented and the young woman relaxed her salute.

"Can I help you, sir?" she pressed as he saw the look of curiosity in her eyes rise, probably wondering why he was there in his civilian clothes and at that hour of morning.

Hoping he was pulling off a sincere and genuine smile (Riley always said he had no poker face), he replied, "No. I'm fine. Just had to check a few things. You know… gut instinct. Especially after General Ross's recent work."

The young woman's brow furrowed thoughtfully, "Yes. I understand. Do you have anything we need to check?"

"I don't think so." Johnson lied. Suddenly there was a thump from inside the container. Rob held his breath as the young airman looked suspiciously at the container.

"What was that?" she wondered and scanned the barcode on the exterior. The reader displayed the content: resupply of basic first aide kits.

"Cargo shifting. I think I might have bumped this container some." Johnson mentioned, thinking madly how he was going to get out of this one. Ruiz looked at him questionably.

"RUIZ! Are you done yet?" came the bellowing voice of the Master Sergeant. Rob gripped the container tightly, thinking this could not get any worse.

"Sir! Yes sir. First Lieutenant Johnson is here." She called back, snapping to attention once again.

The Master Sergeant appeared and his size betrayed his voice; he was the same height as Ruiz. "Lieutenant." the man gave a crisp salute.

"At ease Sergeant Wu." Rob said, his voice tight.

"Can we help you? Is there something we need to reevaluate before our take off?" Wu asked gruffly, all business.

 _Can I be checked for insanity? How about lapse in judgement,_ he thought momentarily. _Wilson is so going to owe me for this._

Rob again tried to plaster a friendly grin on his face to alleviate any concerns, "No. Not at all. Sometimes… sometimes, I get nostalgic for the 'old days', you know. It's been forever since … I've flown or prepped a mission." He then sobered his expression, "And, I just wanted to make sure that we're doing what General Ross has asked of us."

"Absolutely, sir. We've been over this cargo plenty of times." Wu said confidently, "You know we're all under high alert being that those…. Avengers…were declared Public Enemy, number one at Avenger Tower in NYC."

Ruiz added vehemently, "I just can't believe that Captain America would… would do _that._ Harboring a known terrorist? That guy is a murderer! It's like Cap betrayed _all of us_."

Trying not to be stunned by the hurt in her words, Rob took that moment to use his rank to gently usher the two airmen away from the cargo container. "Yeah. It is a shame. I'm sure he has his reasons. I still believe in him. Sometimes friendship makes you do some irrational things."

"Friendship? The Winter Soldier is his friend?" Wu commented tartly as they walked away, the container's security forgotten.

"Maybe." Rob replied trying not to let his cover slip thinking about Sam and Riley; Steve and Bucky, "I know I'd do some crazy things for mine."

Inside the sweltering container, Cap heard every word. The young airmen's tone cut him like a knife, _"It's like Cap betrayed all of us."_

Sam looked across the container in the flashlight that hallowed Steve's face in garish shadows aging him a hundred years. "She doesn't mean it like that." he whispered.

" _Terrorist."_ The word sat in Rogers' mouth like ash as he looked down at the floor of the container at his unconscious friend, his silvery left arm pillowing his head, dark, unkempt hair flowing like blood over his cheek.

 _I'll clear your name, Buck. If it's the last thing I do_ , Steve thought angrily.


	8. Dreams

The container was loaded with the others without consideration for any potential living material inside, which gave Steve and Sam a few bruises. Cap cradled Bucky's head protectively as they were jostled roughly like the freight they were. Finally, they heard the floor clips lock into the anchor brackets and then the hydraulics of the tail door lifting into its closed position.

"Hope everyone went to the bathroom." Sam quipped in the dark. There was no real need for the flashlight to be on every moment.

"How are we going to get out of this in Nebraska?" Steve asked Falcon who was risking as much as he was for a friend.

"I hadn't thought that far. You're usually the man with the plans." Wilson replied.

Steve sighed resignedly. He tapped his watch to make the face glow: 5:00 am, Eastern time. They'd be in Omaha by nine AM local time. "Where is this pal of yours?"

"San Francisco." Sam responded. Steve could hear the tiredness in his voice. They'd been up all night.

The plane began to move from the hangar and the men felt it shift on its immense wheels. Boxes creaked around them and harnesses clanked on the walls of the cargo hold. As far as they knew, only the piloting crew was in the cockpit. There would be no troops aboard this flight.

"Get some rest. I'll set an alarm so we're not caught off guard." Cap said to Falcon adjusting the buttons on his watch face.

"You sure?" Sam replied.

"Yeah. Sleep."

"Make sure you take your own advice." Cap could hear Sam trying to get comfortable in the cramped space with Bucky still crumpled on the floor of the container.

"Ok… "Rogers said trailing off thinking of how Bucky would do the same; always watching out for him.

Drifting in the dark, the motion of the plane taxiing and taking off was soothing in the warm darkness. Soon, even Steve let his thoughts and consciousness waver. Events of the past week rolled through his mind like waves breaking on the shore.

 _Tropical air filtered through his nose with the smell of exotic cooking and smoke from the market. The heat and humidity make sweat cut trickling paths through the dust on his skin. Crossbones stood defiant before Steve with a low chuckle. "You know we got him.", he sneered from behind the mask that concealed his horrible face, "You know_ … **your Bucky** _."_

 _With a roar of fury, Steve launched himself at the mercenary. The laugh became an evil cackle._

 _They took his shield. Sam had to give up his wings. His eyes met Agent 13's as the two soldiers were escorted by armed guards down the concrete hallway of the Avengers HQ. If she felt fear or animosity or anything towards Steve, she kept it to herself. Tony met them with no comment as they rode the elevator to the conference room._

" _If we can't accept limitations, we're no better than the bad guys." Stark's voice reasoned. He stood proudly in his three-piece suit, face resolute._

" _That's not the way I see it." Steve answered him locking eyes, temper on a short leash._

" _Well, I think it's time you should." Tony commented neutrally, trying to be civil, "Especially after what happened last time."_

" ' _Last time' someone told me to 'get with the program', he wound up dead." Cap returned stonily._

" _If you mean Fury, that was apparently a 'temporary' setback." Stark sniffed, "I'm talking about… "_

" _Sokovia? Is your conscience not letting you sleep at night?" Rogers said in a low voice, "Because I believe Banner called you out on that one in the creation of a murder-bot"_

 _Tony looked away, jaw muscles working furiously to keep his calm, then back to Steve, "And if he were here, I'm sure he'd agree with me. We … the Avengers…are just too dangerous."_

" _I think you're trying to wash your sins away by making all of us pay for them." Steve commented._

" _Like you're going to wash away Barnes's? Seventy years of bloodshed? He didn't just blow up a building this time. He blew up the_ _United Nations_ _." Tony's eyes glinted hard with pain. It was no secret that Bucky might have assassinated Stark's parents as the Winter Soldier._

 _Steve inhaled a breath, held it while his heart hammered like Thor's Moljinr on rock, then replied in a firm tone, "He doesn't do that anymore. None of that was his fault when he was a brainwashed POW. Bucky served his country better than you ever will. For you to stand there like some prima donna with no blood on your hands and say some regulation or registration makes all this, "he put his finger on the copy of the Sokovia Accords, "go away and absolve you of_ _ **your**_ _faults, makes you no Avenger but some sanctimonious son of a bitch."_

" _You know, sometimes I want to punch you in your perfect, white teeth." Stark replied darkly and then left the room. Steve gazed out the glass wall at his back._

" _There are some who see you as a hero. But to some, they prefer the word vigilante. "General Ross paused for emphasis, "You have operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That is something the world can no longer tolerate." The long table stretched out before him like a sacrificial altar and he was the offering to some god of bureaucracy. "There will be… consequences."_

 _Steve felt his blood pressure tick higher as thoughts whizzed through his brain. This was not the American way. How could they blame Bucky for something he didn't do? Who was behind all this?_

Steve woke to a hand on his throat. Bucky was awake.


	9. I Know a Guy

_The evening Sam, Steve and Bucky board the plane, Pacific time._

"And who _exactly_ is this 'friend' of yours you so desperately want me to assist, Scott?" Hank Pym asked as he sipped his merlot. The Craftsman style dining room was warm and welcoming as they dined together. Scott was a frequent visitor to the Pym household once he and Hope had begun to date.

Scott looked uncertainly to Hope, who gave him a small reassuring smile. "Well… he's kind of a big deal."

"A big deal, hmm?" Pym put his glass down and knit his knuckles together, his storm cloud grey eyes meeting Lang's firmly.

"Well, yeah. Even though I beat him in a fist fight, being the Ant Man and all." Scott preened. Hope kicked him under the table making him sit up straighter. "So, yeah. His name is Sam Wilson. He's retired Air Force." Scott gulped some wine.

"And that's it?" Hank questioned, his tone growing a bit impatient.

"And he's an Avenger." Scott thought he dropped the mic on the table. Hope watched her father's expression.

"Tony Stark's Avengers?" Pym's face grew tempestuous, his white eyebrows knitting together dangerously like wooly caterpillars.

"Technically, they are not his." Hope inserted gracefully. Scott smiled at her and patted her hand on the table, "But I think he claims all their expenses on his taxes."

"I am _NOT_ helping any one with ties to Stark. Period. Howard was a blustering, womanizing fool of a man. He stole many of my own ideas back when we were in school together. His son is no better! I will not… I cannot… help anyone with ties to him." Hank declared picking up his wine glass nonverbally declaring the topic finished.

Scott and Hope exchanged looks. "What if I told you he had the Winter Soldier with him? And Steve Rogers?"

Hank nearly dropped the glass.

"Captain America?!" Hank gasped.

"The one and the same." Scott bragged slightly again. Hope jabbed her heel into the top of his foot. "Ow!"

"Stop acting like someone from L.A." she warned him. He gave her a sheepish smile and shrug.

Hank cleared his throat carefully regaining his composure, "Well. That certainly changes everything."

"So you're in?" Scott asked hastily before Hank could change his mind.

"When will they be here?" Pym inquired, a sparkle of intrigue in his eye.

"Any day now." Scott smiled broadly as if he had just brokered the biggest deal of the century.


	10. Parachutes?

A/N: I am conveniently bending the rules of where C-130 planes depart from and are stationed for my story. Just a small deviation.

"Where _**are**_ we Steve?" Bucky's voice was a tightly controlled hiss. Rogers could feel his larynx tightly grasped in Barnes' left hand. His pulse beat strongly in the metallic grip.

"We are taking… you somewhere… safe. Let me go, Buck." Cap rasped out quietly not to panic his friend further and because he couldn't say it any louder.

The metal hand released.

"Thanks." Steve rubbed his neck in the dark and then checked his illuminated watch. They still had two hours of flying time. Exhaustion ground at his eyes like sand every time he blinked. "Sorry I had to do that do you. It was the only way for us to escape New York undetected by Tony."

James sat in the warm darkness they all occupied, and simply breathed as he beat down flashbacks in his mind. Steve was right. He was helping. So was Sam. Keep calm. Eventually Bucky replied, "Sorry I freaked out back there."

"It's ok, pal." Steve reached out where he thought Barnes was sitting in the darkness and patted his head instead of his shoulder.

"I'm not a dog." Barnes commented dryly.

"Oops." Cap chuckled.

"Sleeping beauty awakes?" Sam asked with an audible yawn in the pitch blackeness.

"Yes, but no better looking." Steve joked feeling a few bands of tension release from his neck. Maybe this would turn out ok in the end; he allowed himself a touch of optimism.

"And who got all the girls, punk?" James retorted softly.

Steve was about to answer when a metallic groaning sound was heard. They all froze in their tiny box, listening.

"That was a cargo hatch." Sam whispered, "The one that connects the crew area to the cargo."

"Do you think we're here?" Steve asked quietly.

His question was answered outside the box.

"Check all of these with the peep hole. Flashlights on high beam. Remember, they're dangerous." The voice from one of the crew instructed the other officer. There were no troops, only the flight crew and one other officer hopping a ride to Nebraska.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the belly of the airplane. They could hear the steps getting closer and closer as each cargo container was checked through the tiny peephole doors.

"Got a plan?" Rogers asked Sam. "These are your people."

"No. We'll improvise." Falcon replied, "And you- "he spoke to the general direction of Bucky, "Don't kill anyone. These guys are just doing their job."

"I'll try not to." James responded calmly.

The tiny door slid open and a blinding beam of light filled the space. The airman saw the container was mostly empty except for a shiny object. When she looked at it more closely, it looked like a hand; a shiny metallic hand. "Sir, I think we have something… someone… over here?"

"Coming." The second in command approached letting the pilot know that something had been found. Sam cussed in his head. Their secret was out. Time for evasive action.

The second officer looked through the hole as the communications airman held the light. With a silent nod, the second officer indicated they were going to open the container. The communications officer swallowed nervously, flashlight positioned under her pistol, arms locked at the wrist as the second in command gingerly slipped the latch holding the main door open.

Throwing it open with a bang, the second in command announced, "Come out with your hands up. You are under arrest!"

Bucky leapt from the container like a huge cat, knocking the stunned second commander to the floor with a thud. Cap tackled the communications officer like a football full back, knocking the breath out of her. She looked up at the face of Captain America, eyes wide in surprise but then kicked out from under him and scrambling to her feet. Rogers seemed just as surprised to have tackled a woman. The second officer was unconscious on the floor, punched out by Bucky. "Steve Rogers, you … all of you are under arrest!" she declared, her pistol upright trying to keep eyes on the three men, but particularly Barnes.

"Soldier. Put your weapon down. We're not going to hurt anyone." Sam said gently, palms up.

"You are under arrest according to the Sokovia Accords. Line up over there." She gestured to the vacant wall where troops would normally sit, their harnesses hanging empty.

The three men moved cautiously to the wall. "Steve, you were supposed to take her out." Bucky commented gruffly.

"Well…I … she's a girl!" Steve said shrugging, embarrassed. "I can't hit a woman."

"Peggy sure hit guys." Bucky reminded him crossly. Steve threw him a look.

"Stop the chatter. Sit down. Buckle up." The communications officer barked.

"In fact, she reminds me a lot of Peggy." Barnes whispered to Cap.

Sam caught their eyes and looked up above their heads where parachutes were stored.

"Sir, they are here. All three of them. Paulson is down. Awaiting orders." The communications officer spoke into a chest radio keeping her eye on the three men, gun at the ready and standing just outside of reach.

"Ma'am, you are making a terrible mistake. And sorry if I hurt you just then." Steve said.

"You know, now I can see why Peggy was recruited but you couldn't get in." James quipped.

"Barnes. Sometimes you just make me want to-" Cap began before Falcon cut him off.

"They're putting us down. We only have a a few seconds before we get an F-16 escort." Sam hissed at the two friends.

"Be quiet." she ordered firmly. She then appeared to hear something in her ear bud as the plane began to tilt violently.

Taking that moment of distraction, Sam leaped up and kicked the gun out of her hand and then wrestling her to the ground. "Sorry, soldier. But you have the wrong guys."

"Traitor!" she spat as he tied her hands with cargo rope.

"I've been called worse." he smiled and then put her in the troop seats, buckling her in and putting an oxygen mask on her face as the plan tipped and yawed.

Steve had grabbed the second officer and put him in the seat restraints and oxygen mask as well. Fighting the violent movements of the plane as it descended, they grabbed the parachutes and strapped them on trying not to stumble into each other.

Wilson checked a gauge on the cargo door control panel noting the altitude: 18,000 ft and rapidly descending. "On my mark, jump. Ok? Pull the cord in 60 seconds."

Flipping a switch with a few buttons, the cargo hatch began to open like a giant gaping mouth. Wind filled the space with roaring sound as the early morning sun poured in like liquid gold. Suddenly the plane began to climb precipitously. Sam knew what they were doing- trying to reach an unsafe altitude to skydive from to keep them in the plane.

"GO! GO! GO!" Sam yelled into the wind. He estimated with the climb they were hovering in the 20K range. Air was too thin… but what did they have to lose?

The three men practically fell out of the plane as it banked upward.

Searingly cold wind hit their faces at the altitude. Steve looked around through squinted eyes to locate Bucky and Sam. Barnes was fine but Sam hung loose in his harness. The thin air must have made him lose consciousness since he was not imbued with Super Soldier Serum.

" _I do what he does, just slower."_ Cap recalled the comment Wilson had made.

Diving head first, Rogers rocketed down and across the sky to the unconscious Wilson and grabbed onto his harness. Bucky deployed his chute and shot upward with the resistance. Steve oriented Falcon in his grip and then pulled his chute, the canopy struggling to stop the two men instead of the one it was designed for. The cords broke. They began free fall again.

Trying not to panic, Rogers turned Wilson around into a hug position as the earth streaked towards them and pulled the cord on Sam's chute. The stop force was neck snapping and their fall brief.

Crashing into the ground the two men tumbled for a short distance in the corn field as the canopy gently blanketed them in light grey nylon.

Barnes alighted a few yards away, stripping his pack, he sprinted to his companions, worried what he'd find.

Sam's eyes opened to see himself laid out at Steve's side, feeling like he had been hit by a truck. Rogers stirred about the same time, "Watch out, Bucky will get jealous."

"Ha ha, Cap." Wilson sat up gingerly pushing the parachute away from his face, trying to find the edge without being tangled up in the cords. "Thanks."

"What are friends for?" Steve replied also sitting up, pushing the soft grey material away.

Barnes stripped the last of the parachute away from the two men and frowned at both of them, "Who the hell makes these things these days?"

"The lowest bidder." Sam grimaced as he stood up gingerly from the ground pleased to find only bumps and bruises.

"And two, where the hell are we?" James growled looking around in the corn field.

"Not in Kansas any more, Toto." Wilson commented also looking around.

"I understood that reference." Cap said. The other two men gave him a look, "What?"

"Let's find out our next move." Wilson said and began to wrap up the chutes as not to attract attention from the air. The other two men joined in.


	11. Wanted, Dead or Alive

Scott called the phone number Sam had given him repeatedly over his breakfast. Only voice mail answered. Watching the talking head of the cable news, the crawler on the bottom of the screen reported that Captain America, Sam Wilson and the international war criminal James "Bucky" Barnes aka the Winter Soldier were recently spotted in New York city shortly after the attempt to force them to sign the Sokovia Accord at the Avengers new facility went sour.

 _Steve would never sign that piece of crap_ , _neither would Falcon_ , Lang thought in his head as he chewed his toast.

The moving news related the trio had made an escape via a friend of Wilson's, First Lieutenant Robert Johnson. The C-130 they had boarded lost them somewhere over Missouri. They had parachuted out of the plane.

Scott smiled with a bit of fanboy, sipping his coffee, _that was pretty badass, Cap._

They were not armed but considered dangerous.

Tony Stark came on the television neatly pressed in his three-piece suit and precisely trimmed goatee. Black Widow stood behind him and slightly off camera. Scott felt the coffee in his mouth become more bitter. "I'd like to reassure you, ladies and gentlemen and the public at large, that we at the Avengers facility are doing all we can to find and apprehend the fugitives with the assistance of the conventional military after the horrible incident."

Lang's mouth dropped open; _fugitives_? _Cap is no fugitive! For chrissakes, you worked together! He was your friend!_

"And that, while I do not think Steve Rogers or Sam Wilson are dangerous to the public at large, we are not sure about their dealings with Mr. Barnes. Perhaps Mr. Barnes has the two other men as hostage. At this point, we don't know." Stark concluded. Questions erupted like verbal popcorn at the podium as lights from cameras flashed.

"Mr. Stark! Where is the Hulk?" a man shouted out into the room over the cacophony of voices. Black Widow shifted uneasily on her feet.

Tony said seriously, "We are still investigating."

Stark looked around the room at hands waving for attention. He picked an older reporter he knew from his arms dealing days, "Mr. Stark, will Thor have to sign the Accords being that he's not even an earthling?"

Tony smiled with the familiarity he shared with the older reporter, "Well, if he plans on throwing that weird hammer around here anymore, then yes. He will." The room chatter erupted again like a crashing ocean wave.

Tony smiled politely and pointed to an attractive red headed reporter, "Mr. Stark, what exactly do you know about the former Winter Soldier?"

Stark's poker face momentarily flashed displeasure at the question, but it was out and he had to answer it. He began by clearing his throat politely as the room became silent to hear his response. "Mr. Barnes was Steve Roger's best friend as you all know from the history books. They served together in World War Two. Apparently he was taken prisoner by the Russian division of HYDRA some time in 1943 and was believed dead. Instead he was turned into one of the deadliest assassins this world has ever seen."

"Yes sir, we know that. What do _you_ know?" the red head persisted with the question. Every eye went from her to him and back.

Stark looked straight down his nose from the podium, bone chilling ice in his voice, his eyes dead like flint, " I think he is responsible for killing my parents."

Scott's coffee cup fell out of his hand. The room erupted in shouts, questions as lightening flashed from cameras.


	12. Call Me

The truck stop was bustling with activity. Rumblings of diesel engines rattled the windows occasionally as 18-wheelers pulled in and out of the parking lot. The smell of oil and grease permeated the air.

The three men were holed up in a corner booth grabbing some lunch after hiking several miles out of the Missouri corn field they had parachuted into. Sam casually dipped his fries in catsup as Bucky quietly surveyed the comings and goings of the dining room, seemingly ever alert. Steve watched James carefully wondering if Bucky ever got tired or seemed to be running on some sort of super-human endurance. To him, a bed would be heaven right about then. But they had to keep moving. Self consciously, he adjusted the ball cap over his head and pushed his sunglasses up at the bridge of his nose.

Wearily rolling over the past day's events, it hurt even more the way that airman looked at him; like he was the worst enemy she had ever seen. The echoes of the others rang loudly in his ear as they called him a 'traitor' and 'vigilante'. Tony's voice trying to sell him those Accords tasted like the soap his mother washed his mouth out with as a child; harsh and sickening.

"Are you going to answer that?" Wilson's voice asked, cutting through Steve's introspection.

"Huh?" Rogers looked at Falcon tiredly.

"Your phone."

Just then he realized his phone was ringing in his pocket. Sliding it out, he tapped the button not bothering to check the caller ID.

Before he could say hello, Natasha's voice was on the other side. She sounded uptight, which was unlike the typically composed spy.

"Steve, I know how much Bucky means to you, but stay out of this one. You'll only make it worse." Natasha pleaded from just outside the press conference. Tony was clapping media friends on the shoulder as Rhody smiled at his side. What a pair they made, Natasha glanced their way, turning her stomach. Everything these days was just pure wrong.

"What?" Steve said confused then sternly, "Why am I even talking to you? Are you trying to arrest me through the phone?"

There was a pause but Rogers could hear her impatient, or was it nervous, breathing. The sounds of voices were loud in the back ground… was it Tony's he could hear? "Look. I know you are not happy with me right now-"

"That is an understatement." Cap snapped back, his temper rising with his exhaustion.

"Ok. I get it. Listen. You're on the news. Everyone in the world is looking for you. I think I know where you're headed. This is wrong Steve. So wrong. –" Romanov said quickly trying to keep in him on the line.

"And it's my fault? Trying to get me to come back? As long as he wants Bucky's head, it won't happen." He growled, a lump of fury in his belly growing. Rogers could feel Bucky and Sam's eyes on him, watching.

Taking a deep breath, she tried a different angle acting like she was talking to a friend as people passed by, "Do you want your gear back?"

"What? How?" Cap lowed his voice with hers temporarily forgetting his anger.

"I haven't worked that out yet, but I will." She breathed into the phone. "Keep your head low, Rogers. All of you. I'll call you later."

There was a click and then nothing.


	13. Morse Code

Natasha tucked the phone away and fell in step behind Rhodey and Stark as they moved from the press hall, letting Stark's minions and PR people deal with the small details.

"Jumped out of a plane. Damn." Stark muttered to himself.

"Really? You're surprised?" Rhodey commented a bit more humanely, "I'm more concerned for that poor First Lieutenant who assisted them. He's going to see a court martial."

"That was his choice." Tony replied brusquely as they moved down the hallway to his private offices.

"And it was a hell of one, too." James replied with a touch of admiration in his voice, "Would you do that? For me?" Natasha stayed silent behind them.

Tony stopped midstride and looked at Rhodes with a smirk, "Well… what do you think?"

James gave him a frustrated frown.

"Romanov! Do we have any leads on the Three Musketeers?" Stark asked turning to her.

"Well, besides moving west? No." She lied easily, her red hair sliding over her shoulders.

"We need to get on that. Face recognition, drones, anything. Even baby monitors." Tony warned her, his eyebrow creeping up slightly.

"I'll handle it." she promised with a polite smile. James looked at her as if he felt sorry for her task at hand. Tony nudged him in the shoulder and the two men moved on. Once she was sure he was out of ear shot, she pulled out her phone and sent off a few quick texts in Morse code.

* * *

Hawkeye was enjoying cutting the wainscoting trim for his new renovation project. He was able to convince Laura to turn the traditional dining room into a workspace for her and her painting. It wasn't hard work, but getting his hands dirty felt so… good again.

The peal of children's laughter outside the barn punctuated the air between his circular saw as he cut the wood. Suddenly he felt a familiar tapping in his pocket.

: Three Musketeers. STOP. Need help. STOP. You in? STOP.:

Only Nat sent Morse code texts.

Looking up from the dust caking his safety goggles (his eyes were far too important), he sighed looking out the barn door at his kids and home in the background. Of course he was in. Cap needed his help.


	14. Need a Lift?

Cap paid the bill at the counter to the middle aged waitress in her stereotypical diner pink ruffled uniform. She gave him a wink and a hint but he just smiled and tipped his head in thanks, afraid he'd say the wrong thing. Watching him walk away, she sighed dejectedly, propping her head in the heel of her hand.

Steve's other two companions joined him outside where the midday sun was high and blindingly bright. They scanned the parking lot silently behind their sunglasses. Finally, Sam broke the silence, "How now, brown cow?"

Rogers looked around and then down at the curb at a loss for words or ideas. He'd been on the run before, but it was always in his back yard of Brooklyn, not in middle-America. Suddenly, he felt Bucky tense as if about to pounce when Cap saw a young man seemingly appear next to them. Steve held out a hand towards Barnes to let him know it was ok. The young man had skinny ripped jeans and a dirt smudged t-shirt on, with Guns and Roses faded art on it. Dark glasses hid his eyes and it looked like he was trying to grow a hipster beard. Wilson couldn't decide if the kid was going for the ironic clash of decades or if he dressed from Goodwill. The man wiped his face briefly with a bright red bandana, "You fellas in a pinch?"

"Not sure what you mean, son." Cap answered evenly, but cautiously still aware of the brewing tension in Barnes.

"A lift. A ride? Unless you're got the Uber or Lyft app, I can see you're not going anywhere." The young man replied smiling affably, but also like he thought he was being cunning.

"Uber?" Steve whispered as Sam rolled his eyes. Bucky kept staring darkly.

"No. We're fine." Wilson interjected firmly wondering how much more awkward this was going to become.

"About fine as three fugitives from the law can be." the man commented with a lop sided smile and a bit of swagger.

Bucky snapped, grabbing the kid's shoulders and pinning him to the wall with a concealed metal forearm, snarling inches from his face, "Who are you?"

"Bucky!" Steve reprimanded his friend as the former assassin released the stunned looking man. The swagger evaporated immediately.

"Jeezus! I'm just trying to help!" the kid rubbed the back of his head from where it whacked the wall.

Steve shot James a look, making Bucky appear like a whipped puppy, then turned to the young man, "I'm very sorry. We're all a bit on edge here. How do you know who we are?"

"For one, you're covered in field mud so you didn't drive here." Steve suddenly noticed the muck on all their shoes and up their ankles. Tentatively the young man relaxed slightly but kept his eyes on James. "Two, who else wouldn't recognize Captain America? I mean, who uses the words 'son' when talking to a twenty something?" The man looked around widely at the busy truck stop.

"So you're a fanboy, hmm?" Sam commented dryly crossing his arms over his chest. Rogers thought quickly of a younger Coulson.

The kid straightened himself up with his skinny frame and looked Sam in the eye, "No. I'm a trucker." He pointed with a callused hand towards a second-rate rig parked behind some nicer cabs, "And that is my noble steed."

"That hunk of junk?" Sam exclaimed.

"Be careful what you call junk. The Millennium Falcon was pretty fly for a heap of scrap." The young man huffed, insulted.

"Fanboy." Wilson muttered under his breath.

"What's your name?" Steve asked.

"Terry. Terry Jacobs." He extended a hand. Steve shook it firmly.

"Well, Terry." Cap said, "I think we'd appreciate a ride."

"Anything for Captain America and friends. Tony Stark is too much of an asshole for me." Terry replied and gestured towards his truck. They all began to move together, Bucky still scanning around nervously, the tension not gone from his shoulders.

High above, barely a speck in the sky, almost like the shadow of a circling hawk or vulture, Vision located his prey. Calling Natasha, he informed her he had their target.


End file.
